Gabriel's Regret
Book Two
The Medlov Men Series
Latrivia Welch
Gabriel's Regret
RiverHouse Publishing, LLC
1509 Madison Avenue
Memphis, TN 38104
Copyright © 2016byLatrivia Welch
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
All RiverHouse, LLC Titles, Imprints and Distributed Lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund-raising and educational or institutional use.
www.latriviawelch.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is dedicated to my wonderful family, my loving husband Bruce “Shag” Welch and every single Medlovian across the world. Thank you for your support. I love you.
Acknowledgments
This book could not have been written without my dear friend and editor, Karen Moss, intern editor Jerrica Carr, the entire RiverHouse Publishing team, my new team at Slainte Press and the prayers and support of my friends and family, who encouraged me to continue to write on my craziest of days. I would also like to thank those willing to be interviewed by me about their experience in their native Ukraine.
Also, it is important to note that I have no personal support of either the Ukraine or Russia regarding this very real regional conflict. I’m simply telling a fictional story about one very beautiful woman and her desire to lead and help her people. Please accept this as a work of fiction only.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Prologue
The Aftermath…
The Donetsk Hotel
Donetsk, Ukraine
Locked away in a dusty coat room on the bottom floor of his family’s hotel away from heavy foot traffic, Andriy Nenya stood in silent chaos, completely unable to breathe. Though his lungs inhaled the stale air of the small space, he literally could not make the oxygen work in its intended fashion. He was suffocating one breath at a time, and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Body trembling, palms sweating, he stood still, wishing at that moment he could propel himself through the top of the closet, straight through the roof of the building and out into the atmosphere like a rocket. But his teenage body, nor his fragile mind would take flight. It was anchored in pain and solitude created by the war waging around him.
According to first reports given by the remaining captains of the Donetsk Revolutionaries, who were now all huddled together gossiping among themselves, Valeriya Nenya was dead – murdered by Russian separatists in an attack across the city in a predominately pro-Russian district.
But this truth, if it was one, was hard for the young man to accept. He had just spoken to his sister, just hugged her before she left with Olek to meet with possible recruits who were interested in taking up arms against the Red Army. Would he not have felt something, if she had died, the same way that he felt suddenly hollow when Alexei was murdered? Or did enduring the death of a loved one become something that took less and less of oneself the more it happened, until basically, you felt nothing at all?
He could hear his own ragged breaths breaking inside of his chest cavity, and he heaved them out in broken sobs, tears flowing down his cheeks in the darkness of the closet. The words echoed and rang in his head, but he couldn’t believe them. Dead. Everyone was dead. And he was now completely alone in this world. What was he supposed to do now? There was no way that he was going to an orphanage like those poor, abandoned children that his sister tended to every week. He would not go from a freedom fighter to a voiceless number hidden behind a wall. But outside of what he knew that he wouldn’t do, there was nothing else formed – no thoughts of what next, no thoughts of hope. Alas, he had built everything on the promise that his sister had made him. He had built everything around the fact that she promised to always be there.
Balling up his fists, he reached back and slammed a hand right into the closet wall, leaving a huge hole in the crumbling drywall. The pain shot through his body, radiating from his knuckles straight up his forearm past his elbow into the achy joints of his shoulders, but in that moment, the pain caused an adverse effect. It was like morphine being mainlined right into his vein - the pain felt good, feeling anything but numb, it felt human.
His iPhone buzzed in his back pocket suddenly, interrupting and nearly startling him. It was probably someone in the hotel trying to locate and check on him, but he didn’t want to be bothered. What could they do for him at this point anyway? Save him? The idea was laughable. No one had been able to save his mother, his father, his brother or his sister. There was no one who could save any of them anymore.
The phone went silent and then buzzed again, urging an answer.
“What do you want?” he asked, pulling his phone out. The light from the display screen lit up his dark lonely existence in the closet and he saw Nadei’s number. He had given it to him before he prepared to leave to head back to the States, just in case he needed it.
“Hello,” Andriy said, voice nasally.
“Andriy, don’t talk. Just listen,” Nadei said, peering from behind the concrete wall of the parking garage he had been hiding inside since after the attack. “Your sister is here with me, and she’s fine, but not for long if I don’t get her and you out of the city.”
Andriy frowned, brows beetling together as he tried to reprocess his life. “She’s alive?” He wiggled his aching hand. Did he hear him right or was he hallucinating?
“She’s alive, but that’s not for you to go running your mouth off about. We want everyone to think she’s dead, and she’s going to stay dead until we figure out how to get Gabriel back,” Nadei said, taking in a deep breath. “You will do exactly what I tell you to do. No different. You still have that gun on you, eh?”
Andriy rubbed a hand over his jacket, feeling the cold steel up against his skin. “Yes, it’s right here on me.”
“I hope you weren’t lying about how good you are with one, because you’re going to get your chance to prove it.” Nadei knew that Valeriya would not approve of what he was about to tell Andriy to do, but that was the difference between a man and a woman in his mind. Men didn’t coddle young boys, they trained them. “I want you to go to Faddei and tell him that you need to talk to him. Seem shaken up about your sister. Tell him you want to talk outside. He’ll more than likely be afraid that you know something you aren’t supposed to know and will take you out there alone. Distract him, stick the gun in his side. Make him walk down the back stairs toward the alleyway. I’ll be waiting there for you both.”
“Then what?” Andriy asked, his heart beating like a drum in his chest.
“Well,” Nadei shrugged. “Then I’ll be there.”
“Why do you want Faddei?” An
driy asked.
“Because he’s responsible for trying to have your sister killed, and he’ll know who has Gabriel. So you can’t fuck this up.”
Andriy heard him say that earlier. “Where is Gabriel?”
Nadei understood that Andriy was just a scared teenage boy, so he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “If I tell you who has Gabriel, do you have plans to go and get him, boy?
“No,” Andriy said, voice trembling.
“Then just focus on what I’m telling you. You understand my instructions?”
“Yes,” Andriy said, lowering his voice as footsteps passed by the closet. “But you’ll just have to trust me because I’m not in a place where I can repeat them,” he whispered.
“See you in 10 minutes.” Nadei said, hanging up the phone.
***
If Andriy wasn’t confused enough before, he was definitely flabbergasted now. Wiping his face of the salty tears that had drowned his cheeks and neck before, he rubbed his hands over his jeans and cleared his throat. As he reached for the door knob, he felt again for the gun tucked in between his jeans and his underwear, secured tightly with a worn leather belt.
Good, it was still there.
A rush of adrenaline shot through his chest, and suddenly his entire body electrified as he opened the door to sunlight and commotion. It felt like he had been in the closet forever, but glancing at his watch, he realized it had only been for a few minutes.
He took a deep nervous breath, looking from side to side to see if anyone had seen him emerge from the coat room.
Pulling at his jacket to make sure that his concealed weapon did not show, he headed toward the main dining hall where the captains were. He passed people standing around, consoling each other and crying about his sister’s sudden death, gawking at him with both sympathy and confusion.
He tucked his head down, trying to avoid contact with anyone who might slow down his mission.
Ten minutes was all that he had and the clock was ticking.
Walking into the dining hall, the quiet conversations nearly stopped. Every eye was on him, especially those of the elite captains. His heart constricted at the sight of Faddei, who stood up from the table where the men had convened and stretched his muscular arms to offer a hug to his fallen comrade’s little brother.
“Andriy, we were looking for you,” Faddei said, face deceivingly concerned.
Andriy stopped just short of arms’ distance from Faddei and nodded toward the men. “I just needed a moment alone,” he said, playing his role.
“Yes, I’m sure that you do,” Faddei said, pulling out a chair beside him. He offered another kind gesture since a hug evidently was not what the young man wanted.
“Actually, could we talk outside – just you and me?” Andriy asked Faddei as he made a tear form in the corner of his eye. It was better than staring daggers at the man. He wiped the faux tears quickly.
Faddei’s expression changed only so slightly that even Andriy did not detect it. With a sympathetic smile, he pushed the chair back up. “Of course we can.”
The other captains looked at each other. This was a very curious development. Everyone knew that Faddei was the least liked out of them by Valeriya, so it was odd that her little brother would want to be consoled by someone who opposed her position all together.
Taras, one of the captains, quickly spoke up. “What is this about, Andriy?” he asked, almost protectively.
Andriy caught on to the stares and tried to explain it away. The last thing he needed was them following him outside. “I just want to make sure that Faddei doesn’t overlook me the way that he did with my sister as a future leader in the Revolution. It is my legacy to help pick up where she left off.” He shrugged submissively. “I want to talk to Faddei man to man about this first, before it is brought to the captains all together.”
Taras sat back in his chair and wiped a hand over his beard. “That’s very, very courageous of you, Andriy. I must admit, I thought you might be too shaken up to even think of such a thing right now.”
“I’m not so young that I don’t understand the urgency,” Andriy said glancing over at Faddei. “This is just something that I need to talk to you about alone first. No ears, but ours. Out of respect.”
Faddei was a bit smug now, but being the politician that he was, he still sprinkled his words with double meaning to appease everyone. “I’ve always respected you, Andriy, and this only proves why. It would be my honor to step outside and speak with you man to man.”
Gotcha motherfucker, Andriy thought to himself as he watched the men relax back in their seats.
“You do me a kindness, really,” Andriy said, motioning toward the kitchen. “Let’s go to the dock. It’s quieter out there.”
“Lead the way,” Faddei replied, following Andriy.
With each step as they walked, Andriy slowed his pace until he was no longer leading, but walking beside Faddei. He had to strain to produce more tears, but at the thought of Faddei getting away with setting up his sister and having Olek killed, he managed to get the waterworks going.
“I appreciate you talking to me,” Andriy said, looking to Faddei as he opened the back door to the dock. There was no one in the kitchen, which was good, because there would be no one to peer out of the window and spy on them.
Faddei nodded again. “You are family. Whatever you need to get through this.” He reached over and grasped the back of his neck and gently squeezed. “Think of me as your big brother now.”
Andriy almost vomited in his mouth with such a personal embrace. He wanted to rip the man’s whole arm off, but instead he nodded. “I would like that.”
As they stepped outside, the sun burned down on them. It was high noon now and rays were relentless on the baking concrete.
“Why do you need a jacket in this heat?” Faddei asked, closing the door behind them. “Take that off. You look ridiculous.”
Andriy looked down at his hoodie and cringed. “I forgot. It’s chilly inside and with everything that happened, I sort of went numb.” He twisted to the side and pulled the jacket off, yanking his shirt over his gun. Throwing the jacket down on the slab of concrete, he scanned the area. There was no sign of Nadei yet.
He leaned against the railing and ran his hand over the hot metal. “You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette, eh?”
“You smoke?” Faddei asked with a frown.
“I’ve smoked for two years. It’s not easy to hide anything from a sister like mine, trust me.”
Faddei hit the side pockets of his cargo pants. “Sorry, I don’t smoke.”
Andriy looked down the stairs and saw a half-smoked cigarette butt on the ground. “I’ll settle for a little something over nothing at all,” he said, walking down the stairs. He bent down carefully and picked up a cigarette. Pulling a lighter from his jean pockets, he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. “Damn, that’s good.”
Faddei’s suspicion eased when he saw Andriy take a veteran drag of the cigarette. If the boy had been lying, he would have choked. Rolling his shoulders, he looked around and stepped to the edge of the top of the stairs. “So, let’s talk.” Folding his arms across his chest, he looked down at Andriy with smugger disdain that before when he was in front of the other men.
With the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Andriy looked up at Faddei. “Up there?” He shook his head. “Why don’t you come down here? I don’t want anyone to see me smoking.”
“You’re a man now,” Faddei quipped with a sideways smirk. “Who cares if you smoke?”
“You’re my brother now,” Andriy retorted quickly. “You’re supposed to keep my secrets, not expose them.”
Releasing an audible sigh, Faddei slowly walked down the stairs, dragging his boots, one step at a time. “Alright,” he said. “Now, say what you have to say.”
Andriy had turned away slightly, like he was casually looking out at the buildings until he could feel Faddei’s breath breathing down his neck. In one
fluid motion, Andriy pulled the cigarette out of his mouth with is index finger and thumb and flicked it on the ground. As quickly as his hands could move, he reached for his weapon, racked the slide back to chamber a round and had it in Faddei’s abdomen before the smoke could leave his lungs.
Shit! He did it. He really did it.
Shoving the cold steel into Faddei’s body with awkward force, Andriy inhaled a breath and trembled. “What I have to say is fuck you, traitor.” His eyes burned with contempt.
Faddei looked down at the gun and smirked. “Boy,” he said condescendingly, voice deep and grave. “Have you ever killed anything in your life?”
“No,” Andriy answered truthfully. He looked behind him as Nadei approached from the side street with his gun drawn. “But he has.”
Faddei looked behind him just in time to see Nadei’s gun raise and hit him square in the forehead. Like a brick he dropped, but Nadei and Andriy quickly caught him and moved to the side of the building where they were out of view.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t stand me up,” Andriy said, glad to see Nadei.
“Even if we had, it looks like you had it covered,” Nadei joked as he threw Faddei’s limp body over his shoulder.
Pulling up in the SUV from a side street, the driver threw open the door and Valeriya popped her head out.
“Get him in here quick!” she said, voice straining as she whispered and waved toward him.
Chapter One
Hate is Relative…
Donetsk, Ukraine
Secret Neo-Nazi Compound
The men of the Right for Donetsk had been meeting on-and-off for hours trying to figure out what to do with their new bargaining chip, but they were still at odds with a viable plan that they could advance to the Medlov Crime Family. Until they reached that plan, they could not expose to anyone that they were holding Gabriel Medlov prisoner, or they would suffer preemptive attacks from all sides.
Gabriel's Regret: Book Two (The Medlov Men 3) Page 1
